Those Left Behind

Sixteen

Arthur and Molly leaned on one another while they walked, maintaining a slow, even pace, each step leading everyone closer to The Burrow. Bill and Fleur kept close behind them, followed by George and Olivia, then Ron and Hermione, Harry and Ginny, and finally, Percy and Charlie who trailed at the back of the group. The sun was at the highest point in the sky, warming up everything down below, including the flock of red-faced witches and wizards, all dressed in black.

Olivia tried to fan herself off with her free hand. The pregnancy hormones, raising her body temperature further. She pinched the fabric of her dress and pulled it away from her body, blowing cool air down towards her chest. George glanced down, catching a glimpse of her swollen breasts, threatening to spill out of her bra. He cleared his throat and pried his eyes away.

As The Burrow came into view Fleur glanced back nervously and Olivia mirrored her expression, before looking towards Bill, who was anxiously running his hands through his hair. Fleur then turned back around and continued to walk alongside her husband.

"What was that about?", George questioned Olivia, leaning down to whisper in her ear. She stared up at him wide-eyed, knowing that she wouldn't be able to convincingly lie to him. Her mouth opened, prepared to confess everything, just as the family arrived at the front door.

 "Wait!", Bill shouted, lunging forward to block everyone's path. He put his back against the door and held his hands out in front of him.

"William Arthur Weasley! What in Merlin's name has gotten into you?", Molly gasped, surprised and confused by his behaviour.

"There's something that you need to know.", he explained breathlessly, his eyes darting back and forth between his parents and Fleur.

"Oh for goodness sake! I'm sure it can wait until we've gone inside.", she huffed, pushing past her eldest son on her way into the house. Olivia held her breath and tightened her grasp on George's hand as they stepped over the threshold. 

"I'm sorry, are you lost?", Arthur blurted out, interrogating the unfamiliar blonde woman, that stood in the middle of the kitchen, looking terribly out of place. Her silver eyes shot towards Fleur, prompting her to step forward. 

"This is my cousin, Giselle. Perhaps you recognize her from the-"

"The wedding.", Molly answered abruptly, looking the new arrival up and down, from the top of her black lace dress to her black high heels. Olivia felt her palm grow sweaty against Georges, as she tried to steady her breathing.

"Monsieur. Madame. Please accept my deepest condolences. Your son was truly one of a kind.", Giselle spoke smoothly, extending her thin, feminine hand out towards Arthur and Molly. Arthur accepted her handshake, but found it interrupted by a high-pitched cry, erupting from the living room. 

"Bloody hell!", Charlie hollered from the back of the group, turning his attention towards the livingroom. The others followed suit, setting off a chorus of gasps and various expletives. George let go of Olivia's hand and let his drop to his side. He kept his gaze locked forward, the muscle in his jaw flexing. Olivia could tell that his mind was racing.

Molly stepped away from her family and slowly approached the couch. Resting on the cushion was a wicker basket, with the redheaded baby boy swaddled inside it. She slapped her hand over her mouth and Arthur stepped forward, placing his hand on his wife's shoulder. He then hung his head, at the sight of who was undoubtedly their grandson.

"He looks just like the boys when they were little.", Molly wept, turning away from the couch. The light caught the tears that pooled in her eyes, causing them to glisten. "Sweetheart, How old is he?", she asked, directing her question towards Giselle.